


A Night At The Opera

by cowboykylux



Series: Mob Boss Kylo Ren AU [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Cunnilingus, F/M, Jewish Character, Mob Boss Kylo Ren, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Public Display of Affection, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Submissive Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: You follow him down the red carpet, each of you getting your own time in the spotlight. Eventually though he stops and turns towards you, extends an anxious hand. Kylo never liked to be too far away from you, after all. You didn’t like to be far away from him either, especially not now.Not when he looked this good.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Series: Mob Boss Kylo Ren AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814407
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	A Night At The Opera

He looks damn good, on the red carpet. He always does, your man, your Kylo. One of the perks of being excessively wealthy you suppose, there’s always opportunity to show off new suits, new shoes. A hundred photographers snap his photo and he stands there like the gentleman he is and lets them, knowing it’s good press and good alibi.

Everything’s always an alibi, isn’t it?

You follow him down the red carpet, each of you getting your own time in the spotlight. Eventually though he stops and turns towards you, extends an anxious hand. Kylo never liked to be too far away from you, after all. You didn’t like to be far away from him either, especially not now.

Not when he looked this good.

“Your bowtie is crooked.” You say softly in his ear as you grin for the cameras. Kylo never smiled, he always said you do enough for the both of them, so you flash your most charming smile and reach up to tap at the black satin around his throat, “How did that happen, I just fixed it before we got out of the car?”

“Just leave it, it’s hopeless.” Kylo shakes his head, slides an arm around your waist and leads you further towards the opera house where the charity function is taking place. “It’ll just get fucked up again in a minute anyway.”

“Oy verdray your head. It won’t if you don’t fidget with it, here.” You roll your eyes, and once you’re inside the building, gorgeous marble sculptures and red velvet stairs all around you, you fix it.

“What did I just say?” Kylo’s amused even if he doesn’t show it in anything other than his eyes. He leads you up the stairs to the private opera box, a small corner reserved just for the two of you for the evening. The second the door closes and it’s just you way up in the air together, he’s glued to your back, voice deep against your throat, “Do I need to show you who’s boss?”

“Oh honey,” You sigh into his touch as his hands smooth up your chest and grope at your tits through the evening gown you wear. You tsk your tongue to the roof of your mouth and turn in his arms with, “You don’t actually think you’re the boss, do you?”

A hint of a smirk ghosts over Kylo’s lips just then, he lifts his right hand and brushes his knuckles across your cheek. His pupils are growing black with lust, you can watch the slow expansion of them, can practically feel his hunger. Your stomach flips and flutters, imagining just what he’d do to you in this private section of the theater.

“Yeah I’m the boss that’s why I wear this ring.” He says, flexing his pinky for a minute.

You slowly reach for his hand, bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to the gold of it, and Kylo’s breath catches in his throat. You know he has to be hard, you know. But you have no intention of doing anything about it, not right now. Instead, you guide that hand back down your body, let his palm feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

“My pussy says otherwise.” You whisper in his ear, and you can see how his jaw jumps when he clenches it so tight the way he is now.

“Let me have a little chat with her.” He licks his lips, shifting in his shoes. He’s eager, desperate, and you feel your inner thighs slick up with excitement when he guides you to one of the big velvet chairs, lets you sit down, and kneels between your legs with, “Please?”

You’re in no mood to deny him this, not when he’s resting his head on your thigh so sweetly, one hand skimming up the back of your calf.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You make a show of hiking up the skirt of your dress, exposing the pretty lingerie you wore just for the occasion, just in case you needed to show him who was _really_ in charge here.

Then the lights in the theater dim, and Kylo gets to work.

The second the music begins to play, you sit back and let him have a taste of your pussy. He starts out with the sweetest kisses, reverent, grateful, thankful for you, for your cunt. He kisses your inner thighs, bites at them with his crooked teeth, sloppy and wet.

He doesn’t spend too much time though, before he’s prying your legs open as wide as they can go, one of your legs slung over his shoulder so he can get close close close. His big thumbs spread your folds and he opens you like a flower, is so quick, so eager to begin drinking up all your juices.

“Kylo, fuck honey.” You bite at your lips. You have to keep your volume under control, out here in public like this. The theater is quiet aside from what’s happening on stage, people in the boxes next to you could hear, and you can’t have that.

“Mmmmhmm,” He moans into your pussy, shuffles a little closer.

His tongue feels so fucking good licking up up up your cunt, nose rubbing strongly against your clit, making little jolts of pleasure shoot up your spine, spark in your skull. Your hand fists in his perfect hair, tousling it just enough, just enough to get a hard grip and hold him in place.

You can’t see his eyes in the dark, but you know they’re rolled back into his head, his toes curling out of satisfaction in his shiny dress shoes. You can’t see, but you’re not looking anyway, trying your damnedest to keep your attention focused towards the stage.

Your legs are like putty in his hands and he manhandles you however he wants, spreading you and lifting your ankles over his shoulder in careful succession, his arms hooking around your thighs, kneading at the flesh there as he makes out with your pussy.

You come with a hand clamped over your mouth, blinking hard against the gush of pleasure that shines on his chin, he drinks it down happily, excitedly, like he was waiting for that with bated breath. But even after you come, he doesn’t let up. He spends much of the first act down between your legs, kissing and licking and sucking at your pussy.

He’s not here for the story anyway, he doesn’t give a shit, not when he’s this hard and can be this filthy, this soaked in your come. He laps you up like you’re his favorite drink, because you are. He stays down there until the oversensitivity of it all becomes too much, and you tug him into the seat next to you which has been empty all evening, your hound at your feet instead.

And when the opera is over and all is said and done, you can’t help but roll your eyes at how his bowtie once again managed to come undone.

What could have possibly caused it this time?


End file.
